


Man of Action

by guilty_pleasures_abound



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Affection, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Love, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guilty_pleasures_abound/pseuds/guilty_pleasures_abound
Summary: Stan wasn’t really one for “I love you.” For all the talking he did, how much he’d constantly run his mouth, those were words that almost never passed through them.[Gender neutral reader]





	Man of Action

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, I’m a sap. Just a 500(ish) word bit of fluff right here.

Stan wasn’t really one for “I love you.” For all the talking he did, how much he’d constantly run his mouth, those were words that almost never passed through them.

It was just sort of… understood. It was in the way he put his arm around you while he was driving, the two of you taking full advantage of the El Diablo’s spacious bench seat. It was in the way he’d drape his suit jacket around your shoulders when you got cold, or take your hands between his own, blowing his hot breath over them to warm them back up.

It was in the way he’d draw you in to kiss you—sometimes with cheeky hands on your ass, giving you a flirtatious squeeze—but more often than not, with a gentle touch on the small of your back and a soft palm cupping your head.

It was in the way you'd feel his gaze on you, looking up to find his affection clear in the slight upturn in the corners of his mouth, or the cute little wink he'd send your way.

"Flirt," you'd always tell him, earning you a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows that never failed to make you laugh. (One of his most expressive features, those eyebrows.)

It was in the way he was far more romantic than he would ever admit to; the kind of romantic that spent half his time watching you as you watched your favorite movie instead of looking at the screen. Or the kind of romantic who'd dance with you on the back porch on a rainy day. The kind of romantic who'd ask you to dress up for a home cooked meal, just so he had the privilege of seeing you looking sharp before getting to take it all off of you.

You knew he loved you when he'd be sitting in the big living room chair and would tug you onto his lap, turning the television off to give you his full attention. (Such wonderful attention; kisses that made you feel weightless, strong hands caressing with gentleness, soft words of encouragement and appreciation.) You knew it even when he _didn’t_ turn off the television—when he just wanted you near, when he just wanted to lean his chin on your shoulder as _Grandpa the Kid_ fell asleep riding his horse on the little screen in front of you.

He didn't _say_ "I love you" when you were in bed together, but you sure as hell felt it. He liked to play otherwise, but you knew the truth; Stanley Pines was a Big Damn Softie, and it was never more obvious than when he was wrapped up in you. When "I love you" was substituted with "Perfect" and "Beautiful" and every pet name in the book.

He may not say it much, that much was true, but you always knew how much he loved you.


End file.
